Daredevil: Matthew Murdock' s Maladies
by Ze Awesome Prussian
Summary: Daredevil (aka Matthew Murdock) has been pushing himself too hard in the cold weather of winter, and it finally caught up to him. Will a sick daredevil still be able to fight crime?P.S.- I do not own Marvel' s/Netflix' s Daredevil.


Bam! The Man in the Mask slammed into the dumpster with a force that would normally knock someone out. But not this man. He simply shook the snow off of him, back flipped, and punched his pursued in the gut. Hard. The pursuer fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Who do you work for?!" The Man in the Mask barked, his breath cloudy in the cold night air.

"I don't know! It's just a job!" The man shook his head, and scrambled upward so he was sitting.

Sensing an even heartbeat, the masked man paused, planning his next course of action. While his thoughts distracted him, the attacker twisted away from the masked man's grip and ran down the alley. The Man in the Mask pursued. Turning a corner, the escapee narrowly missed a patch of black ice. The masked man was not as lucky. He slipped on the ice, narrowly missing the corner, and fell into the shin deep snow. Quickly, he stood up, ignoring the pain on the side where he fell. He reached out his senses, listening for the noise of a man running for his life. But it was too late. He was gone.

Shivering, Matt ran home, going by way of the rooftops, all the while trying to ignore the frigid cold of his soaked clothes.

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"...And with this final supporting evidence, you must find my client, Mr. Jones, innocent of all charges." Matthew Murdock, attorney at law, closed his final statement with a smile. The jury, for once not paid off by an evil mastermind, seemed to agree.

"The jury finds the accused innocent..."

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This case was one of the very few profitable cases they had taken. It paid well enough for the bills, but also enough to afford more than cheap takeout. Trying to convince Matt to join Foggy and Karen in celebration was like pulling teeth from a live cobra: way harder than it needs to be. The guy needs to learn to take a break! But Foggy was up to the challenge.

"Come on Matt! You won a case for us, we should be celebrating!"

Matt smiled and shook his head with a well disguised clearing of his throat. "No thanks, Foggy. I have some stuff I need to catch up on."

"Please Matt!" Karen pleaded, "We'll even let you choose where we eat. Foggy's still undecided."

At this Matt's ears perked up. "Well...I don't..."

"Great, where to?" Matt gave up on refusing.

"Well... there's this Italian restaurant that my dad used to take me when he'd had a good night, and we could afford it. It's on 54th and Perry." Matt spoke rather quietly.

Foggy smiled and nodded. "Sounds like a plan, my fellow avocado! Ready to go?" Matt smiled, his unseeing eyes looking up about half a foot away from Foggy's general direction. As they went on their way, the cold winds picked up. Matt discretely rubbed his nose, which was running, probably from the chilly air. He shrugged it off, and caught up with Foggy and Karen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAfter dinner xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Although no one drank the eel that night, the group enjoyed themselves. They ate actual food, celebrated a victory together, and basically had a good time. Once they had eaten their fill and more, they began to head home. Foggy and Karen lived near each other, but Matt lived on the other side of town. They decided to drop him off on their way home.

Now they walked on the sidewalk through the freshly shoveled snow. Even though the snow no longer presented an obstacle for Matt, others would soon appear. A man was running in their general direction, most likely running late for something. He obviously did not notice Matt, nor his cane and glasses. Matt could sense him, but was distracted by a robbery three blocks away. Matt kept walking at the same pace, in the same direction.

They collided, making Matt fall sideways into the snow. The other man didn't even stop, shouting behind him, "Watch where you're going!" Soon he was out of sight.

Foggy felt like chasing after the man and punching him in the gut, but instead he kneeled down and helped Matt get up and relocated his glasses and cane. Patting him on the back supportively, Foggy realized just how cold the snow was. Matt was already shivering.

"Shoot, Matt, you're soaked. That guy should watch where he is going." Foggy grumped, clearly angry for friend. Karen handed Matt her blue scarf, helping him stand back up on the icy ground.

"It's fine, Foggy. No harm done." Matt attempted to brush the snow off, only succeeding in rubbing it further into his freezing clothes. He rubbed his nose, which was itching from the cold air and his recent freeze.

"Whatever. Come on, let's get you home before you freeze to death." Foggy reached out for Matt's arm, guiding him the rest of the way home, despite Matt's protests. Soon, Matt was home. Promising Karen that he would change into dry clothes as soon as they left, Matt thanked Foggy and Karen for the meal and the help. Foggy waved bye, told him to get some rest, and walked out the door.

As soon as they left, Matt began changing into his black shirt, pants, and mask. He could still hear the robbery. So with a shiver, he jumped out the window, onto the roof, and headed out once again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx-The Next Morning-xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Slowly, Matt drifted into wakefulness. As he became more aware, Matt opened his eyes to see the same sight he saw each morning.

Nothing.

Still laying down, Matt stretched, wincing at the pain in his back, which seemed to be sore for no reason at all. Propelling his hand toward his alarm clock two-and-a-half feet away from his bed, Matt learned it was 7:34 A.M., twenty minutes after his alarm clock rang.

Matt sniffed, feeling his nose itch a little. He took a breath, and sneezed once. He groaned, counted to five, and dragged himself out of bed.

Normally Mat was a morning person, but with only four or five hours of sleep, Matt felt both physically and mentally drained. More so than usual. Not to mention that most of his waking hours, Matt spent beating up Russian merchants who were planning on acquiring more income.

In the snow.

For the last two nights.

In nothing but a thin shirt, pants, and a mask.

Running in only a minimum level of sleep, Matt resembled a zombie. Although he felt exhausted and kind of weird, Matt ignored it and started to get ready for the day. His sore throat could easily be from forgetting to drink water last night after his 'workout' with the Russians. And his headache could simply be from lack of sleep, or stress.

Nose running slightly from the crisp morning air, Matt quickly showered, and got dressed in his work clothes, being sure to add a scarf and his thickest socks to his daily attire. Normally he ate, but Matt had no appetite. He blamed it on Foggy, who had convinced him to get the large plate on spaghetti last night. So once he was ready, Matt left the house, and with a yawn, he headed to work.

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"Matt looks like he pulled an all-nighter." Foggy's first thought as his friend entered the office. His hair was combed the wrong way, if at all. There were bags under his eyes, and he was still shivering from the cool outdoor air. Matt had always seemed more vulnerable to the cold when he had lost sleep.

Appearing to sense Foggy's gaze, Matt ran a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it out, and waved in Foggy's general direction as he made a beeline for the coffee machine.

"Hey, can you pour me a cup too?" Foggy asked. He himself was not, and never had been, a morning person. Matt nodded, and started to pour the second cup. When they first met, Foggy had always been worried when Matt tried to pour himself some drink, but after a while, he stopped underestimating the blind man's abilities. He seemed to have more coordination than most seeing people, at least when it came to his hands. When it came to his feet, he was hopeless. Matt was constantly tripping, or nearly running into objects, some days more than others.

While Matt poured the coffee, he paused, and seemed to jerk forward a little. His head bobbed, and then Foggy realized that he sneezed. While sneezing, Matt accidentally spilled some coffee onto his hands. He shook his hands off, and yawned while he finished pouring the coffee.

"Sleep well last night?" Foggy asked as Matt walked over to Foggy' s desk. Matt nodded absentmindedly while downing his coffee, grimacing at the flavor. He preferred tea, but coffee would keep him awake longer, or so he hoped.

"Liar." Matt smirked; he could never seem to keep some things from Foggy. Foggy continued."You don't even touch the coffee regularly. What's up?"

Matt's reluctant sigh turned into a yawn. "I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep last night, that's all. To much noise around my house." Foggy nodded. This happened often. Matt felt the need to be awake when others were making noise. It was one of those habits that only seemed to get worse over time. Or at least, that's what Foggy had been told, which was partially true. Matt waited for an answer for a few seconds before Foggy realized that Matt couldn't see him nod.

"Oh, I just nodded. Sorry." Matt grinned forgivingly, "It's fine." Matt handed Foggy his coffee, grabbed his own, and went in to his part of the office, beginning to go over the letters from possible clients. Foggy noticed Matt quietly cough, but passed it off as him trying to get over the taste of their cheap coffee.

Karen walked in soon after Matt. She carried an important looking file folder, and was heading over to Matt's part of the office. Foggy intercepted her quickly. "I can take that, Karen." Foggy smiled at Karen.

"I was going to take it to Matt, and run it through his Braille printer. Doesn't he usually handle this stuff?" Karen wasn't being rude or anything, she just thought that Matt would want to handle it.

"Matt didn't get that much sleep, and seems to be running on fumes today. I mostly finished my stuff, so I thought I could do it." Karen looks through the glass to get a better look at Matt, who appears to be massaging his forehead in an unsuccessful attempt to kill his headache.

She nods, and smiles when Foggy adds, "Don't let him know I said that; he doesn't like people making exceptions for him."

When he saw Karen's expression, he added, "Seriously, he'd probably wack me upside the head with my softball bat." Even when joking, Foggy always kept an eye out for Matt.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_Four Hours Later_ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Matt sniffed a bit as he read in braille. Another case had come up, and Matt always liked to be the one to research their background. Almost always. Matt didn't like to admit it, but he felt a little bit off today.

Aside from his lack of sleep, Matt felt unfocused. His nose had started to run about two hours ago, and it was getting annoying. Plus there were too many distractions outside, from the man selling baked goods two streets down to a girl's perfume that smelled like liquefied sparkles.

All of it just worsened Matt's headache. With a sigh, Matt pulled out his headphones and his old mp3 player, one of the few things that he kept on him at the office. Turning up the music, Matt was finally able to focus, so long as he didn't fall asleep first. Only a few hours had passed and he already wanted to go home.

He worked for a while, and had begun to consider using his sleeve as a makeshift tissue. If this wasn't one of his nicer jackets, he might have. Matt sneezed once. It broke his train of thought again. Reluctantly, he shoved himself out of his chair, and made his way to their shared area, where he distinctly remembered leaving some cheap, takeout napkins. They were rough and painful on his nose, but they were better than nothing. Then he returned to his desk, and took a swig of coffee. Grimacing at the lukewarm taste and the pain in his throat, Matt continued his work.

At least two hours later, Matt finally finished his part of the background information. He decided to take out the headphones and listen for anything he might need to hear outside these walls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_A little past 6:00 PM_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Do you think Matt wants dinner?" Karen asked Foggy. "Normally, he would have already eaten."This was true. Matt was the kind of guy that would sneak at least two big snacks during the day along with regular meals. But he had only surfaced from his room for lunch and a few other things.

"I'll go question the suspect," Foggy teased Karen, and then walked into Matt's office.

"Hey, Matt, Karen and I were going to head out dinner. Do you want to come with us, or do you want us to bring you back something?" Foggy stood at the door. He and waited for an answer, but none came.

Matt was slumped in his chair, eyes closed behind his dark glasses, and snoring softly. Foggy walked forward, reluctantly tapping his friend on the shoulder. He hated waking him, but Matt's neck was going to feel horrible as it was. His head was nearly reaching his desk, and he sat at a rather uncomfortable position.

"Matt?" Matthew jumped, waking from his sleep with a reluctance born of too little sleep in too long. He raised his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then became aware that Foggy still had a hand on his shoulder.

"What?" Matt turned towards Foggy, embarrassment clear on his face, showing in the hesitant smile and the light pink of his cheeks. "Oh, um... Karen and I were just about to head out, and get some dinner. Would you like to come?"

Matt nodded, "Sure, let's eat." His voice sounded a little hoarse, probably from just waking up. Trying with no avail to rid himself of the horrible crick in his neck, Matt stretched in his seat.

Foggy smiled. "Oh, and Matt?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to fall asleep while we're there. I'm nowhere near strong enough to carry you."

Matt coughed in mock surprise, "Who? Me?"

Foggy left to get his coat, laughing. Starting to follow him, Matt stood up quickly. Way too quickly. The room spun for a moment, so he grabbed the desk until his world stopped tilting. Like Foggy had discovered from earlier conversations with Matt, his lack of sight did not relieve him of vertigo or dizziness. Once the room stopped spinning, Matt reached for his coat, and followed Foggy.

Karen noticed him yawn, but decided not to question Matt. She knew that hovering did not help, and that Matt could take care of himself, or so she thought.

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Matt's senses were very accurate, sometimes more helpful than sight itself. Unfortunately, illness or lack of sleep dulled his senses, making him feel less like a regular person, and more like a blind one. This is why Matt nearly ran into a prop sign on the way to dinner.

"Woah!" Foggy grabbed Matt's arm just before he would have walked straight into it."Careful Matt, you nearly ran into a pole!" Matt blushed, mimicking the color of the stop sign he had nearly ran into. He mentally cursed himself at his lack of concentration.

"Are you alright?" Karen asked, noticing the rather vacant look on Matt's face.

Matt nodded, refocusing on Karen and Foggy. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

Foggy smiled at Matt, "Hey, it's not your fault. I might have ran into it if you hadn't almost done it first."

Matt laughed, thankful that his friend was still covering for him when he needed it, and even when he didn't.

Foggy and Karen were only partially oblivious to the fact that the quiet laughs morphed into stifled but painful sounding coughs. Matt felt thankful that Foggy hadn't questioned him yet. If Foggy knew he was starting to catch a cold, they wouldn't get anything done. Foggy was caring and all, but the last thing Matt needed was a best friend who wanted to mother him.

His cold didn't seem all that bad yet anyways, as long as he didn't run into any more poles, Matt should be okay.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSoon they were eating. Foggy, Karen, and Matt all got sandwiches from a nearby Subway. Foggy started eating immediately, and Karen seemed hungry, but Matt only took small bites, like he wasn't hungry.

Matt was always hungry, or at least it seemed that way to Foggy. With how often he went to that gym, it didn't surprise him. Crazy metabolism and all that. It did, however, surprise Foggy that Matt didn't even finish half his sandwich. He just nibbled, appearing to stare out the window.

Karen left early, planning on grabbing something from her apartment to make the office look more like an office, and less like a room with three people and a couple fax machines. Now it was just Matt and Foggy.

"Matt? Are you going to finish your sandwich, or can we head back to the office? We're almost done for the day," Foggy asked Matt, getting his attention.

Matt nodded, "Yeah, I'm done. Not that hungry." His voice caught at the end, threatening to make Matt cough. He shoved back the urge and stood.

Foggy' s jaw nearly dropped. He never thought he would see the day that Matt claimed to not be hungry. But he shrugged it off, cataloguing it in his brain, and they headed home.

Now that they had both finished their parts in researching the case, another one of those wrecked car cases, they were ready to go home. Matt couldn't wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAfter sleeping for a few hours, Matt should have at least felt marginally better. Far from feeling better, he felt worse. His nose was completely clogged on one side, his throat was dry, and he felt too cold in his thick sheets and comforter. He would have rolled over and attempted to fall back asleep, but something had woken him up.

Again he heard it: a scream.

He had heard a muffled scream a street or two away, and he intended to do something about it. So he quickly changed into more daring attire, and sniffing, jumped out his window.

Scaling rooftops, he made it to the scene without a moment to spare. When he arrived, no one had noticed him yet. Two thugs were attacking a young women, who was putting up quite a fight. Unfortunately, it was not enough. She was one of the reporters for the newspaper Ben worked for... What was its name again? Never mind that.

They were winning, no doubt hired by /classified/ for his profiteering business.

Racing up to them, across the rooftops, Matt tried to ignore the cold, but it was starting to get to him already. Matt jumped down from the rooftop and landed directly on top of one of the attackers. This knocked him out pretty well.

Matt stumbled a bit, but ran towards the other assailant, pulling him off the girl, who quickly put as much distance between her self and her pursuer as possible. Since they were on a dead end street, this space was limited. The man who had been attacking the girl quickly turned and attempted to punch Matt in the nose. Matt dodged, so it only hit his shoulder. They fought with their fists and whatever else they could find.

Matt did fairly well, despite his illness, but had almost tripped or missed a punch twice. Almost. The man had tried to pull out a gun once as well as a knife, only to have them blocked by a quick jab from Matt. Matt fought valiantly, and came close to winning before another attacked him. No, it was not a person, a wire, a knife, or anything of the sort. It was a tickle. An inescapable, unbearable tickle that had taken up residence in his nose.

He paused for a moment, confusing his attacker. Matt sneezed. Twice. And his attacker took advantage of it. Quickly pulling Matt into a choke hold, his assailant almost defeated his victim. Thankfully for Matt, the man had forgotten completely about his first target. The woman sneaked up behind him, a metal rod in hand, and smashed it onto his head.

Knocking out Matt's enemy, the woman dropped the bar and stood back as her rescuer regained his breath. "Thanks," Matt smiled breathlessly, and let out a string of coughs that sounded like half came from being nearly getting choked to death. The other half sounded like a wet, painful cough that you get from a bad cold.

This surprised the woman. She moved to get a better look at him. He was tired and pale looking, other than his pink cheeks, but had still managed to beat two other men. Her reporter's mind forming a question, she opened her mouth to ask something. She took her camera out, just in case. She was surprised to see Matt, or The Man In The Mask run off, pushing off the walls of the alley, and landing on the roof of the building next to it. She quickly snapped a picture when his face (his mask, mouth, and chapped nose) became visible. His footsteps quickly faded.

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Matt slept like the dead that night, not walking up until an hour past his work time. He could care less. With his head pounding, his throat raw, and his muscles feeling like they did, it was all Matt could do to stumble into the kitchen for a glass of water. His shaking hands nearly dropped the glass and its contents twice.

After taking a sip of the water, Matt approached his couch. He half sat, half lay on his leather couch, trying to ignore the cold feel of the leather against his skin. He rubbed his nose and shivered. Was it normally this cold at 9:00 in the morning?

Suddenly, Matt's phone rang. "Foggy. Foggy. Foggy." It told Matt the Caller ID as he picked it up.

"Hello?" Matt stifled a yawn as he spoke.

"Matt! Where are you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago. Are you alright?" Foggy somehow managed to sound incredulous, annoyed, and worried all in a few seconds. It was kinda funny. Matt chuckled, triggering a few coughs. He shuddered, but replied after a few seconds.

"I'm ok, Foggy. I caught a bit of a bug, and need to take the day off. Will you guys be alright without me for today?" Matt's voice sounded like a strangled, dying frog. What really surprised Foggy was how Matt readily admitted that he was sick. He was the kind of guy to soldier through an illness until it either went away, or until he passed out. That alone told Foggy just how sick Matt must be feeling.

"Poor guy." Foggy covered the speaker, and imformed Karen.

"Matt caught a cold, and it seems to be beating the crap out of him." Karen's lips pressed into a thin worried line as she pressed the speaker button on the phone so they could both listen. Matt blew his nose on a napkin in the background, having pulled away from the phone's speaker.

"Matt, you sound awful." Foggy internally sighed. This cold really seemed to be doing a number on Matt. Matt smiled, wincing from the other end.

"Thanks for the compliment." He croaked sarcastically.

"Don't worry about us, we're good here." Foggy reassured his friend. Matt thanked him quietly, massaging his head.

"Thanks guys, I'll..." Matt paused for a second, his eyes watering and his nose itching on the other end of the conversation.

"Matt?" Matt sneezed three times. He tried to muffle them in the couch's pillow he had grabbed earlier for warmth. He groaned, returning to the phone with a sniff.

"Gesundheit." Foggy supplied from his end of the phone line. Matt mumbled thanks, too exhausted to talk like a smart person.

"Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?" Karen cut in, questioning Matt and sounding like a concerned mom. Matt sniffed, or tried to. They could tell that his nose was stuffed up from halfway across town.

"I'll be fine. Just don't do anything too fun without me." They said their goodbyes, and Matt hung up.

Remembering what had happened yesterday when he stood too quickly, Matt slowly rose from his position on the couch. He grabbed his robe, water, and a roll of toilet paper (didn't have tissues) and headed back to bed. Hopefully he could get a bit more sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Foggy walked up to Matt's door with some soup, tissues, the newspaper, and a bag of coughdrops. Letting himself in with his key, Foggy walked into Matt's apartment to see that he was still in bed. His glasses on his nightstand, a roll of toilet paper on the other side of his bed, and the way he was completely bundled up under the covers and still slightly shivering told Foggy that Matt had one heck of a cold. Never one to leave his room a wreck, Matt had all the used tissues neatly piled in the trash next to his bed.

Karen had stayed at the office. She would have come as well, but they really needed to finish their work on the case. They were nearly done, but Foggy hadn't wanted to wait that long. Karen had offered to finish the work, about an hour left, and come check up on Matt once she finished. Foggy couldn't thank her enough. Foggy warmed up the soup in the microwave, and brought it over to Matt.

"Hey, Matt. Time to wake up, buddy." Matt groaned, blearily opening his eyes. "Foggy? What're you..." When he sat up, the congestion in his nose shifted. Matt sneezed exhausted into his pillow, too tired to move his arm to cover it. He tried not to sneeze on Foggy.

"Bless you." Foggy sympathetically handed Matt one of the soft tissues he had brought. Matt groaned, reluctantly rolled over into an almost sitting position, and blew his nose. Once his nose had cleared out as much as it was going to, Matt faced Foggy and half groaned, half whispered, "What are you doing here? I thought the office was still open."

Foggy answered quickly."I brought you some stuff. It's some tissues, some cough drops. The soup is from Karen. She told me to make you have at least half a bowl of it. Apparently it's another recipie of her grandmother's; she practically swore by it. She's at the office for a while, finishing some stuff for us. Oh, and I brought the newspaper."

Matt smiled, nodding his thanks, and began sipping the soup. Foggy got him some ibuprofen for the headache, and once Matt had finished about half of the soup, Foggy began to read him the newspaper.

In a way, the newspaper was a comfort to Matt. Not having much in the way of children's books, Matt's father had always read him the newspaper when he was younger. As he got older, Jack Murdock had done this when his son got sick. Because they had been roommates in college, Foggy had learned of this, and had offered to read it to him one time when Matt had gotten caught out in the rain. Since then, the tradition had stuck.

"Now, let's see here... there's a lost cat. Boring. A sale at the mall. Boring... " Foggy paused as Matt tensed up, his face twitching. After fumbling for a tissue, Matt sneezed twice, jerking himself into a sitting position. After blowing his nose, Matt leaned back into his pillows.

"Continue." Matt's stuffed nose made his n's sound like d' s and his m's sound like b's.,

"Foggy nodded. "Um, okay. Oh! There's one here about the Man in the Mask!"

"Really?" Matt sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, the headline says,"Man in the Mask, Battling Crime and Cold."" Foggy grinned. "What a coincidence, seems like this guy got sick same as you."

Matt yawned, "Really?" "Yeah, let me read it to you: "It started when I was attacked on a street corner by the alley near 42nd and Avery..."

Matt smiled and closed his eyes as he listened to the news. Foggy's voice was quiet and peaceful, and for a minute, Matt forgot about the turmoil around him. He just lay there and slowly drifted to sleep, knowing that no matter how miserable he felt, Foggy would be there when he woke, and maybe Karen would be too. He had his friends, and this made him feel safe.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx...Meanwhile...xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A Russian kidnapper sneezed, cursing the Man in the Mask with every word he knew. If only he had remembered to wash his hands after being sneezed on by that horrible American Daredevil.

The End

P. S.- Comments make the llama happy.


End file.
